


A Love Thought Lost

by junko



Category: Bleach
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Feelings, Hand Jobs, Hook-Up, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2233326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji gave up on love after Shuuhei broke his heart back in Academy, a chance encounter makes Renji wonder if he could rekindle an old flame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Thought Lost

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Renji's birthday today I dusted off this half-finished fic and sexed it up! Happy birthday to my favorite Redhead. For your birthday I got you laid! (You're welcome.)
> 
> Also, this is kind of continuation of my Sixty-Nine Shades of Gray/Shuuhei series. But, you don't have to know anything much about what happened in that that Renji doesn't re-tell you. So, enjoy it for what it is!

In the summer before his sophomore year of Academy, Renji gave up on love to focus on his career. His heart had gotten broken, and then when Rukia left him, it seemed like a sign that the time was right to push all that emotional nonsense aside. So Renji doubled-down and managed to graduate as one of the top three of his class.

Renji’d always been the sort to throw himself into things without a backward glance, and this decision was no different. Most of the time, he had no regrets.

It was only ‘mostly,’ because whenever his body banged against someone else’s in the barracks or back alley or bathroom stall, he held his breath, just a little, wondering if he’d feel it again: the Feeling. Despite his secret hope, no one had made the back of his knees tickle, caused his stomach to flutter and drop, or left him breathless and shattered.

True, Rukia’s new brother had sucked the air from his lungs that one time, but it was clear that someone like Renji was nothing more than a speck on a mote of dust under the heel of a guy like Kuchiki. The only point in chasing after something like that was to bring it down.

He swore he would, too. Someday.

It was a testimony to the lack of spark in his sexual encounters that Renji’s mind had wandered away from the task at hand—or, in his mouth, as it were. When cum shot into the back of his throat, he was so surprised he nearly choked. Some quick swallowing and vaguely enthusiastic noises covered for his lack of attention. Not that the other guy gave a shit. There were no feelings that were going to get hurt if a bit of cum dribbled down Renji’s chin.

Hell, Renji wasn’t even sure they’d exchanged names. If they had, he’d forgotten this guy already.

So, Renji was more than a little taken aback when, instead of the usual hiking up of the hakama and mumbled excuses about places to go and is-that-really-the-time-?, this guy let his knees collapse with a happy sigh. Taking Renji’s face in his hands, he kissed Renji full on the mouth. It was such an enthusiastic kiss that Renji found himself literally bowled over. His back hit the tatami hard. The guy landed on top of him, their naked legs a tangle. He seemed to be desperately trying to coax further participation from Renji with lips and tongue.

Guiltily feeling like he ought to give it a go, Renji put his arms around the guy’s back, feeling hard muscles under shitagi and kosode. The hakama was in a pile somewhere, but they’d been in such a hot and heavy hurry that the guy hadn’t even untied the top half of his uniform. The longer tail of the kosode threatened to slide down his hips, but Renji hitched them up, cupping the hard swell of the guy’s ass. Renji, on the other hand, was completely naked as always. They always wanted the tattoos.

The guy, whatever his name was, had a good body, at least--nice and taut. Getting into it, Renji let his hands trail up to waist and rib cage. That elicited a little shiver and a moan. Yeah, nice. Even if Renji really had no interest in this person, it was still very pleasant to be kissed by someone who seemed to mean it.

“That was amazing,” the guy breathed, pulling away from their kiss. He smiled dreamily in the semi-darkness of the lower seated officer’s quarters. They lay on the floor in the narrow space between two cots. The roommate, Renji remembered, was on patrol and wouldn’t be back until daybreak.

“Yeah,” Renji said agreeably. His hands continued to stroke the contours of the guy’s body absently. “Amazing.”

Propping himself up on an elbow, he started tracing the lines of Renji’s chest tattoo with a finger. “You have no idea how long I’ve fantasized about that.”

No, he really didn’t. It was getting kind of embarrassing that he had no idea what this person’s name or rank was. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, you guys in the Eleventh are so cool.”

Oh, right. A Thug Lover, a groupie. That’s how they’d managed to hook up so fast. A whole cadre of them had crashed one of the usual booze-ups at the Eleventh, all looking to score. If that’s what this guy was though, that meant the fun was just starting. Renji gave him a hard slap on the butt. “You been dreaming about me fucking your tight little ass, too?”

The guy’s face noticeably paled, but his breath hitched with excitement. He nodded. “Very much.”

“You know what to do, right?”

The guy thought about it for a second and then said, “Go fetch the lube and bend over?”

Renji let out a dark snort of a chuckle. “That’d work.”

#

Thug lovers wanted it rough, so Renji played his part. Not that it was such a hardship. The guy had a nice long blond ponytail, so there was a lot of hair pulling. He’d have plenty of bite marks and bruises to show off to his buddies, too. Twisting the guy’s arm behind his back, Renji shoved his face into the floor and gave him a good pounding. There were tears, but he was screaming ‘yes, harder’ the whole time.

Normally, part of the deal was being the kind of badass that left right after the deed was done. Wham, bam, thank you, man.

Renji’d had every intention of hitting the road after the last moan was moaned. Only, it turned out he was far drunker than he realized. When he tried to get his feet under him, he sat back down hard. Thug lover took that as invitation to bear hug him out of apparent gratefulness for all the mistreatment, and somehow they’d fallen asleep like that, all snuggled up and friendly-like.

So the morning came with a lot of ‘oh shits’ and ‘you can’t still be heres’ and ‘oh crap if my C.O. sees yous….’ Unimpressed by the frantic display, Renji yawned, grabbed the pile of his clothes, Zabimaru, and walked out just as the roommate was coming in. The roommate gave Renji wide eyes and arched eyebrows at the way Renji had only his shitagi slung loosely over his shoulders and the bundle of the rest in front of the salient bits as he sauntered out the door.

The plan was make his way to public loo stalls and get the rest of the way dressed there. Every division had its structural quirks, but only a moron designed soldiers’ barracks that didn’t have a privy within barfing distance. The trick was figuring out which side of the building they were on before too many people spotted him.

Just his luck, Renji was just looking to see if the johns were in the other direction when he ran smack into to someone. Whoever it was, was in a damn hurry and knocked the clothes clean out of Renji’s grip. The only thing he’d managed to keep hold of was Zabimaru.

“Oi!” Renji said, as his sandals went flying over the porch rail into the practice yard. “Where’s the fucking fire—?” The rest of the insult dried up in Renji’s throat. He was face-to-naked-body-parts with none other than the man who’d broken his heart all those years ago.

Hisagi Shūhei.

In that same second, it hit Renji: the Feeling. It shivered down his spine and made Renji’s gut quiver and drop out.

Memories flooded Renji’s body and as his mind ticked off the changes: a new bluish tattoo that ran across Shūhei’s cheekbones over the bridge of his nose. His hair was spikier and his face a bit narrower. Body trimmed and muscles hardened by time.

Just seeing him again took Renji’s breath away. “Shūhei?”

Renji watched Shūhei’s face do a shift from pissed off to startled recognition. Only for Shūhei, it continued on to eyes drifting downward. Shūhei’s gaze seemed riveted to the space between Renji’s legs and, unless Renji was mistaken, he liked what he saw… a lot, because his face turned bright red. Any more, and he was sure to get a nosebleed.

Heh. It almost gave Renji hope that, just maybe, the Feeling was mutual.

Instead, Shūhei suddenly averted his eyes and covered his face. His voice was all business when he barked out, “What are you doing in my Division?”

Renji smiled toothily. “What, no hello?”

Shūhei sputtered. Ignoring Renji’s question, he resolutely stared at a spot in the practice yard and said, “This is the seated officer’s wing. You’d better not be fraternizing with one of my officers.”

His…?

Oh, right, Shūhei a lieutenant these days. Renji glanced around, getting his bearings. Was this the Ninth, then? Behind him, Renji noticed Thug Lover and his roommate peering out from their room. They ducked quickly back inside when their eyes met Renji’s. “Nah,” Renji said, not wanting to grass anyone out, even a weak lay. “I was just passing through, you know, like you do.”

“Naked?”

“Well, you’re the idiot who knocked my clothes all over creation!” This was a trick Renji’d learned from watching Ikkaku dealing with the unseated. When faced with an unwinnable argument: go aggressive. Nine times out of ten, it threw people so off balance that you won by default.

It shouldn’t have surprised Renji that Shūhei was one in a million. He always was special, even during Academy.

Shūhei’s lips went thin and his eyes hard. “Take your filthy trade elsewhere or I’ll report you to the head captain.”

“My what, you say?”

Then it hit Renji. The one and only time they’d ever gotten together, Renji had been working at a host club during the summer and Shūhei had paid for sex with him.

This piece of shit just called Renji a whore.

No wonder Renji’d given up on love. People took one look at him and made crap-ass assumptions like this one. Well, fuck that.

“Oh, I get it,” Renji said, getting up into Shūhei’s face. He stepped in so close that Shūhei was forced to tip his head to look Renji in the eye. “And here I was thinking you were better than that, Hisagi Shūhei. You know what you can do?” Renji asked, poking Shūhei hard in the chest with his finger, “You can ‘kiss me.’”

Renji saw from the paling expression on Shūhei’s face that he remembered his ‘safe word’ just as well as Renji had after all this time.

Take that, you bastard, Renji thought as he shoulder checked Shūhei out of the way. Leaving the rest of his uniform where it fell, Renji pulled the shitagi the rest of the way on, and tied it up on his way to the gate. He’d get another uniform at the quartermasters on the way back. That one was starting to smell, anyway. Besides, he had Zabimaru; that was all that was all he needed.

Ever.

#

The best thing about being in the Eleventh is that you were pretty much allowed to hit anything as hard as you wanted. The only problem was that even hammering the shit out of everything in sight all day long didn’t make Renji feel any better for it. The next remedy was drink. Luckily, there was plenty of that, too, and no one looked at you funny if you hit the sauce as hard as you hit anything else.

No one, except the too-clever-for-his-own-good, Ayasegawa Yumichika: “So, is it a girl or a boy that’s got you so wound up, Abarai?”

Renji was already so drunk he was sprawled out on the portico floor, his back on the Division’s dojo and his long legs straight out in front of him. “It ain’t anybody,” Renji snarl-slurred. “I don’t fucking need nobody. Just me and Zabimaru. That’s it. That’s everything I need.”

“That bad, eh?” Yumichika asked, pushing someone out of the way to settle down beside Renji. Yumichika sat primly, sort of seiza, but with his legs off to the side like a woman’s.

Renji just shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it.

A cold drizzle had started falling an hour ago. The rain had driven away most of the usual crowd that came in to party from other Divisions. At this point it was only the Eleventh and a few stalwart hangers-on who soldiered on despite the miserable soaking. Matsumoto had somehow managed to talk a bunch of idiots into mud wrestling in nothing but their fundoshi. Renji was pretty sure he’d have been one of the fools if he ever wore underwear and wasn’t in such a foul mood. Instead, he sat with the rest of the spectators, nursing his five-hundredth beer.

Maybe it was just his fifth, but there might have been a bottle of sake in there, too. Renji couldn’t remember exactly.

“What do you think, Yumichika?” Renji finally slurred, “You think a guy like me is good boyfriend material?”

“Very much. But, you may be asking the wrong person,” Yumichika said with a little fond smile in the direction of where Ikkaku was doing the luck-luck striptease before joining the nearly naked wrestlers. “My tastes might be a little skewed.”

Renji grunted. Ikkaku was a seriously lucky guy. He could be who he really was with someone who didn’t judge. Then again, Ikkaku was exactly what he seemed to be: a tough as nails son-of-a-bitch. It was different when you were one thing on the outside, and another inside. “But, it’s not like I need a lot,” Renji continued as if Yumichika had been privy to all the thoughts in his head. “You know what I want? I want someone who’d buy me flowers. And, maybe call me ‘Snookums,’ you know, like for real, not all ironically.” Renji’s mouth couldn’t quite make the words pronounce they way he was was thinking so it came out sounding more like “iron-moronically.”

“I could call you ‘snookums,’” Yumichika said with a little giggle into his sleeve.

Renji tipped his beer bottle at him pointedly and admonished, “See how that’s… rion, iron… not serious?”

“You think so? I was going for sarcastic.”

Suddenly, their view of the courtyard wresting was blocked. Renji looked up, ready to tell the bozo to get out of the way and sit down like the rest of them. But, when he saw who it was he nearly snorted beer out his nose.

Hisagi Shūhei stood in front of them.

Rain dripped from the spikes of his hair. Arm muscles gleamed like they’d been oiled. Renji thought Shūhei must be cold, being all sleeveless like that, in the rain. Renji was just drunk enough to consider offering a warm-up hug. In fact, he struggled upright. But, by the time he had his feet under him, Renji remembered he was mad. “What’re you doing here? You looking for a beating?”

Renji would’ve continued with a ‘shove off or I’ll shove you off,’ but Shūhei thrust a package wrapped in waxy brown paper and twine into Renji’s hand with a brisk: “I owe you an apology, Abarai.”

“You sure as shit do,” Renji said, but he snatched the package anyway.

“Well this is it, you moron,” Shūhei snapped.

“Oh, yeah? Maybe I want something more!” Renji bellowed.

Renji might have said, ‘like a take-my-breath-away kiss, like the one you left me with all those years ago,’ except at that very moment Yumichika swayed to his feet and, noticing something on the package said, “Oh, like a flower!”

Blinking, Renji looked down at where Yumichika pointed. There, in the bow of the twine, was a flowering plant that Renji didn’t recognize, though he thought he’d seen it growing in the cracks in the cobblestone. So maybe it was a weed, but it was still pretty, all delicate and lacy.

Yumichika leaned toward Shūhei, close enough to lay a hand on that trim chest, and said delightedly, “Now if you call him ‘snookums,’ he’s all yours!” Then, pulling away, Yumichika added thoughtfully, “And, if you do, I want film, because that,” his finger pointed at Renji and then Shūhei, “would be very, very hot.”

Shūhei looked disgusted and said, “I don’t know why I bothered.”

But he had bothered. From the size and heft of it, Renji guessed that under the wax paper was his uniform and sandals—certainly folded, probably laundered. That was some serious effort, especially when you added in the flower. The flower--even if it was just a weed--made Renji’s breath huff shallowly.

Shit, even Shūhei’s stupid, little gestures gave Renji ‘the Feeling.’

“Wait,” Renji said, seeing Shūhei turning away.

Only when Shūhei did, Renji didn’t know what to say. ‘I love you’ was right there, waiting to fall out, but, even as drunk as he was, Renji knew that wasn’t the kind of thing one guy blurted out to another after being reunited for five minutes. Yet, everyone, even a couple of nearly passed out Eleventh division unseated officers drooling on the wooden porch, waited anxiously on Renji’s next words. Renji’s mouth continued to hang open stupidly as ‘You’re beautiful wet’ and the corresponding, ‘My gods, I want to lick your whole body’ flitted through his head. They seemed equally bad choices. So, the best Renji came up with was a grunting: “I’ll walk you back.”

“I think I can find my own way,” Shūhei said.

“Well, you can’t,” Renji insisted.

“I can’t?”

The half-passed out guys knew their cue. “You can’t.” they echoed. “Nope. Or we’ll have-ta beat the snot outta ya.”

Renji nodded and opened his hands as though to say, ‘you see?’

Shūhei shook his head like they were all insane, which, given this was the Eleventh wasn’t far off, and sighed. “Fine.”

#

Renji felt almost buoyant as he tossed the package though the open window of the seated officers’ barracks with a “Don’t bother! It won’t fit you dipshits anyways!” to anyone who might be sleeping inside. He tucked the weedy flower into the tightly bound hair beside his ear, and gestured broadly in the direction of the front gate. “I’m good now; Let’s go.”

Shūhei glanced nervously at the darkened open window and the sound of tearing wax paper. “You’re good?”

“It ain’t going to fit them,” Renji said happily. Then over his shoulder, he added a little louder, “And, it’s not like I won’t know who jacked my gear when they go around tomorrow tripping over hakama twice their fucking size. Then I’ll let Zabimaru have ‘em for dinner!”

The rustling halted suddenly.

“Yep. I’m good,” Renji repeated.

Shūhei shook his head again in that way that a lot of people did in the company of the Eleventh, like they couldn’t quite believe anyone chose to live like this.

“The only way in is invitation, direct from the Captain. Eleventh doesn’t recruit,” Renji said as if HIsagi had actually said something out loud about it, as they made their way to the gate. The rain had slowed to an annoying drizzle. “I ain’t bragging or nothing, but Momo tells me Aizen’s still pissed.”

Hisagi raised an unbelieving eyebrow.

“It’s not like I’m saying I was a good fit in the Fifth,” Renji agreed. “Especially once Zabimaru showed me their shikai. And, everybody knows my kidō blows.” Renji laughed a little at his own pun, “Yeah, like, literally blows up.”

“I heard you didn’t get along with the lieutenant,” Shūhei said.

Renji took the time to spit on the ground. A whole lot of descriptive phrases involving variations on fox-faced pricks roiled past Renji’s tongue, but the cold rain was sobering him up enough that all he said about the man who was now the captain of the Third was: “There is that.”

Renji hazarded a little glance at Shūhei. Shūhei looked straight ahead, walking with purpose.

He’d ‘heard,’ had he? Did that mean he was paying attention to things Renji did? It was so hard to read that stoic, closed-off face. It didn’t help that by chance, Renji ended up on the side that had been scarred by a Hollow’s claws.

They walked in silence a while. The neighborhood around the Division reflected the bawdy, boisterous nature of its regiment. Nearly every row house had some kind of business that catered to late-night partiers, and, even the poor weather, the streets were filled with people coming and going. Hawkers on the stoops and under awnings tempted them with all manner of food to ‘soak up the ale,’ that the house next to that was more than willing to sell cheaply, by the bottle. The streets had gathered other sellers, including the sorts that slightly tipsy consumers might find worth the impulse like fortune-tellers, souvenir sellers, and their ilk. You could even buy a Human World-style shirt that claimed ‘I survived at night at the Eleventh.’

“What rank are you these days?” Shūhei asked.

“Um,” Renji scratched the back of his neck, trying to remember. “Eighth Seat?”

Renji wasn’t surprised by the vaguely disappointed look that crossed Shūhei’s face. That was because most people didn’t understand how tough the Eleventh really was. In any other Division, Renji was sure he’d be at least third seat, if not lieutenant level. But, here? You needed to be one step from bankai to even survive being within five feet of the captain’s reiatsu during a firefight. If you tried explaining that to people on the outside, they all figured you were full of shit and covering for the fact that everyone knew the Eleventh was just a bunch of rowdy, worthless drunks with no discipline.

Never mind that Iba went from Fourth to lieutenant in one step. And anyone with half-decent ability to sense reiatsu could tell Ikkaku had bankai, even if it was supposed to be some kind of big-ass secret.

At the rate he was going, especially training with Ikkaku on the side, Renji figured he’d have bankai himself in record time. Quarter of a century, tops.

Zabimaru hissed, as if irritated at being pushed so hard.

Ah, you like it, Renji told his zanpakutō with a little encouraging pat. That, at least, got him a happier sort of grunting-growl.

“You feeling all judge-y, over there, Mr. Fancy-Ass Lieutenant?” Renji finally grumbled, “’Cause I don’t even see you using yours. You ain’t even carrying.”

“It’s peacetime.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Renji said.

Shūhei gave Renji a look out of the corner of his scarred eye. His mouth lifted in a curious smile. “Do you even know how much I want to say something about you ‘pulling yours out’ at the least provocation?”

Any belligerence Renji might have mustered evaporated at the sight of the full-on smile Shūhei flashed him.

“I remember,” Shūhei said, continuing, “When that thick accent and bluster was just a show for the punters. Have you fallen for your own hype?”

He was falling, all right. But, Renji gave a nonchalant shrug and said, “Eh, you know how it is. No one wants a college boy in the Eleventh. Gotta play my part.”

“Too bad,” Shūhei said. “I kind of liked that college boy.”

“You did?” Renji’s feet slowed, but his heart raced.

Shūhei nodded. “Yeah.”

Just like that? ‘Yeah?’ After all this time, that’s what he said? ‘Yeah,’ like it was no big deal?

Renji sprinted the distance between them, grabbed Shūhei’s shoulder and spun him around, pushing them both up against a nearby shop wall. He was still drunk enough that he miscalculated the force a little and the latticed shutters rattled as the air whooshed out of Shūhei in a rush.

“What the fuck?” Shūhei wheezed, catching his breath. He looked surprised to see Renji suddenly looming over him, a hand pressed flat against the wall on either side of his head.

“You’re stepping on my line,” Renji snarled. “‘What the fuck’ is right. I think you’re full of crap giving me the ‘yeah’ like there was something there between us all along that I was just missing. Bullshit you liked that college boy. You wanted the same damn tough guy shtick everyone else did. Then, once you had it, you walked away and you never even looked back. So, fuck you! And fuck your fucking handsome face and your fucking casual ‘yeah’ and fuck your lips all coming close to me like that, wait, wha--?”

Renji’s rant was stopped short by Shūhei’s tongue in his mouth. 

It took Renji’s brain a few seconds to catch up, but his body started responding immediately. Despite the cold drizzle, his skin flushed and his hands tightened on Shūhei’s shoulders. Heart racing, he held his breath through the kiss. 

This wasn’t the usual ‘shut up’ kiss, either. Renji’d been kissed plenty of times by people who just wanted him to stop talking and get on with things. This was something else. Needful, but tender, too. 

Shūhei’s hands cupped Renji’s face and he leaned up into him with the slight jut of a narrow hip. Automatically, Renji slid a hand down to press into the arch of Shūhei’s back, supporting him and drawing him closer. The other went to curl around Shūhei’s head, fingers combing desperately through those surprisingly silken spikes of hair. Gods, he ached to just wrap Shūhei up tight and take him home and spend the rest of his life alternating between hot sex and long, warm cuddles.

Cuddles…? Where had that come from? Fuck, was he already so far gone? Wasn’t he just yelling about something important…?

Renji dragged himself from the kiss sharply. He was going to pull himself together and not fall for the daydream of a guy he didn’t know, not really, not since Academy and really only that one night….

But, there was Shūhei with his eyes closed and his mouth open, lips slightly swollen from their bruising kiss, lashes trembling, face flushed so cute along the bridge of his nose, all tender and the opposite of the harshness of those tattoos and scars… and the Feeling hit Renji so hard, his knees nearly buckled.

Shūhei’s hands left Renji’s face for his shoulders. “Whoa there, big guy. You okay?”

“Uh, no… that is…. Look, I’m sorry. This isn’t right.” Renji frowned, not liking the way Shūhei looked a little hurt when he said that. So, he quickly tried to explain, only it came out as jumbled up as his heart: “I mean I want this. I want this so much it’s kind of painful. But you… you don’t know how much—this is, if it’s all a casual ‘yeah’ for you like before, when you just walked in and out. No. See how that’s no good? It’s not going to work for me. I… want it too much.”

Renji fingers clutched at Shūhei’s shihakushō and hair as if for emphasis. 

Shūhei, meanwhile, rubbed up and down Renji’s arms as if enjoying the feeling of the muscles there or, maybe, Renji thought, more like trying to calm a startled beast. “Hey, I know you’ve had a lot to drink. But, uh, it’s a little soon for that kind of talk, isn’t it?”

Right. Renji pushed him away. “Actually, no. What it is, is a little too late. I’ll tell you how drunk I am, I’m drunk enough to tell you I was deep into you in Academy, Hisagi Shūhei. Then everything got all fucked up by the host club, but I thought maybe you’d come back and at least pay for it now and again. But, no. One time. That’s all I got. And I know how into it you were, but you never came back, not even to I don’t know, just use me—because I would have okay with that. That’s how into you I was. But, no---no, I had to accept a pity fuck from Kira to try to get over you, but that didn’t actually work. I didn’t get over you. I ain’t never gotten over you. “

“Oh.”

“Yeah, see: ‘oh.’” Renji stared at Hisagi’s face for a long time and then just shook his head and walked away. “Fuck. I fucking give up.” 

Renji stomped off, his fists curled in tight balls at his side. As he plowed down the street, he muttered about how stupid men were, including himself. No, especially himself. 

What the hell had he been thinking, anyway? Of course the Feeling had been one-sided. Nobody felt like that about Renji, ever. It was just stupid luck that Shūhei had thought to pluck some dumb-ass weed out of the pavement and stick it into the package. Renji reached for the flower in his hair now, ready to toss it in the mud and grind it into the ground for good measure.

That’s when he felt his hand being caught up, a calloused palm pressing into his own. “You’re coming back to my place. Now.”

It seemed Shūhei had his lieutenant voice on. It was plenty sexy, that. But, Renji wasn’t going to do this all again, only further from his ruck, “I thought I told you to go fuck yourself.”

“Actually, you confessed your undying love.”

“Same thing,” Renji huffed.

“Well, I want to hear it again,” Shūhei said. “Only more. And in private.”

In the half-logic of semi-drunkenness, that made a kind of sense to Renji. “Your place it is, then.”

#

Somehow Renji got all the way there without saying anything too stupid. Out loud, anyway. He’d managed it because they shunpō’d and it was hard to talk at those kinds of speeds. The truth of it was, Renji spent his time actively trying not to throw up. He’d barfed in flashstep before and it was not an experience he was anxious to repeat.

Especially not in front of someone he was still fairly certain he wanted to impress.

They were waved through the Ninth’s guarded gate. Apparently, not every division had an after-hours open door policy. Renji had a vague memory of a curfew at the Fifth. In those days, however, he’d been too green to have any place to go away from the Division. Besides, Momo and Kira were both still there back then. Shūhei gave the guards a very official nod, which Renji nearly ruined with a sloppy saluting bow. Shūhei grabbed his elbow and steered him in the direction of the lieutenant’s quarters.

Shūhei propelled him to across the practice yard to a two-story building. In the middle of a long portico was a huge door with the number nine inside the Gotei’s traditional diamond logo. It looked very forbidding and formal, so Renji was surprised when Shūhei slipped his shoes off. Renji followed suit and watched curiously as Shūhei slid aside the door to a large office. 

Thanks to a printing press occupying half the space, the office was crammed to over-flowing, if orderly. File cabinets lined all four walls, and on every surface were piles of neatly stacked papers. It smelled pleasantly of fresh ink. Renji liked this room; the odor was nostalgic of Academy, reminding him of the precious scent of a new book. Shūhei led them to what looked like a closet door, but which slid open to reveal a smaller messy bedroom.

Though it was several sizes down from the office, it was still plenty spacious by Renji’s standards. As Shūhei lit a lamp, Renji noticed that it seemed smaller because of all of Shūhei’s things. He had two guitars, cases for them, music sheets, motorcycle parts and manuals for those, spread all over the room. Interspersed were various items of clothing, including some fundoshi, which Shūhei quickly tried to hide.

As Shūhei fussed around, Renji settled onto the pile of unmade sheets and blankets of the bedroll only to pull a wad of tabi out from under his ass. He tossed it at Shūhei’s head, “Dude, you’re a slob.”

Catching the socks deftly, Shūhei said, “You’re supposed to be too polite to say that.”

“I thought I was being polite,” Renji smiled. “I didn’t call you a fucking slob.”

Shūhei seemed to think about that as he glanced around his room. Finally, he tossed the socks into an open guitar case, and nodded. “Point.”

Renji patted the spot beside him on the mattress. “You want me to tell you how hot you are again? I’m totally up for that. C’mere, and I’ll whisper all the sweet nothings in your ear while you get out of that wet uniform.”

Shūhei’s mouth hung open for a second, then he laughed. “Holy shit, you’re fast.”

Renji did that quick, little shoulder shuffle and pulled his arms out of his sleeves. In a second, he had the uniform top shoved down over his hips. Once he undid his obi and let the hakama fall, he’d be buck naked, since there was no underwear to deal with and the rest would tumble down along with the pants. Taking a moment to preen a little under Hisagi’s wide-eyed expression, Renji smiled toothily: “Damn right. Fast and furious, that’s me.”

Shūhei seemed a little shocked. His mouth moved in little gulping motions, but no words came out.

Renji decided that meant ‘keep going.’ So, standing up, he expertly unraveled his obi. Everything fell to the floor with a whumping sound. 

“Oh.” Shūhei said, “My.”

Renji watched Shūhei do that thing everyone did when first confronted with Renji’s nakedness—gaze jumped erratically from tattoo to tattoo, as if unable to focus on the whole picture at once. And, then, eventually settled on that space between Renji’s legs, where usually there was a tiny sigh of disappointment that the hair there wasn’t quite as blood red as the rest. Renji thought it was still pretty decently rusty and very obviously still red, even if it was a shade or two darker, but people seemed to want it to be a perfect match. Plus, you know, it kind of sucked to have prospective lovers looking in the direction of your dick like they were maybe a little bit bummed out. Renji was glad he finally asked someone if, you know, they’d thought he should be bigger or something… 

“Wow,” Shūhei was saying. “I mean… uh, holy… wow.”

Yeah, enough with the tattoo show, Renji thought as he crossed the distance between them and wrapped Shūhei up in another bruising, passionate kiss. As tongue swept in, tasting and teasing, Renji walked them back in the direction of the bed. His hand tried to simultaneously undo Shūhei’s obi. Renji had a lot of expertise drunkenly divesting shinigami of their uniforms, but Renji was surprised by how much his hand shook with excitement and… Feeling.

Similarly, Renji thought his breath hitched a little too much for this early in the game and he was surprised to discover his erection already springing to life up against Shūhei’s silk covered thighs. 

The fuck? Was he going to cum like some kind of schoolboy over a tangled body kiss?

Renji thought he might when he’d blindly steered Shūhei’s heels up against the futon and gotten the hakama loosed just enough so that the combination made Shūhei stumble. They sprawled into an awkward heap, made extra specially awesome by Renji managing to step on Shūhei’s hakama leg and consequentially stripping the pants clean off his hips, despite the still half-wound obi.

Not stopping the barrage of kisses, Renji managed to divest most of the rest of the uniform with only a few minor squawking protests from Hisagi. The “hey’s” died in an ‘Oh! Ah!’ when Renji smooched his way down Hisagi’s body far enough to take his cock into his mouth. 

Sucking someone off was something Renji could do half-drunk and half in his sleep, but with the Feeling shivering along his nerves it was like a whole new experience. Renji was suddenly hyper-aware of taste and texture and the way Shūhei’s body went sort of still and expectant at every lick and tease. Each moan of Shūhei’s reverberated somewhere deep inside Renji, hardening his own cock and sending spikes of pleasure tingling along every erogenous zone, almost like a tickle, making Renji squirm and go at it with more enthusiasm. 

“Oh god, Renji! I’m going to come!”

Re-doubled his efforts, Renji gave a great big suck. Shūhei grabbed Renji’s topknot with both hands, encouraging deeper mouthfuls. His knees were bent on either side of Renji’s head, and he thrust up hard enough to hit the back of Renji’s throat just as he came. Gagging a little, Renji sucked it all down as fast as he could, like he was hungry for it—and he was. Just the taste of Shūhei was starting to get Renji off--as were the breathless shuttering sounds of his afterglow. A few strokes would be all it would take, so Renji helped himself, as he kissed his way up Shūhei’s body.

This go-round, Renji took more time exploring the expanse of Hisagi’s panting, spent body, enjoying the ripple of taut muscles. Renji’s tongue paused to caress a thin scar that bisected Shūhei’s broad pectoral. More reminders of that night, Renji thought, leaving a gentle trail of kisses upward. When Renji reached Shūhei’s mouth, he kissed him with a whole mess of feelings about that abortive field trip. He kissed him with sympathy for the loss of friends and comrades, with gratefulness for his bravery and leadership, and a deep ‘yeah, we were all snookered by those two bastards Aizen and Ichimaru, weren’t we?’

All of a sudden, Renji felt Hisagi’s hand covering his own, urging a faster pace—as if he was saying ‘forget all that, be here, now.’ Renji let himself be rolled over onto his side and let Shūhei take over with his hand. Callouses of a hand worn and battered by years of sword practice were rough in an amazing way against sensitive flesh. For the first time in a long time, Renji really wanted fingers inside him. As Shūhei stroked him, Renji spread himself open just a little. He was too dry to do too much more than just poke around, but the teasing was enough to stimulate imagination. It wasn’t hard to picture what it would be like to have Shūhei there, thrusting with the same urgency as his hand stroked Renji’s cock.

No one had ever topped Renji before, ever. Renji had never really wanted anyone to, either. 

But, what he wanted more than anything was to just lay back and melt into Shūhei’s powerful, manly control.

What the actual fuck?

Just then there was something in their kisses, something that was less sloppy and more… intimate. Renji gasped when Shūhei pulled away to look him in the eye. Shūhei plucked the flower from Renji’s hair. He put it to his lips and then to Renji’s, and… of all the things? That was it. Renji came, shuddered and panting like a blushing fool of a schoolboy with his first crush.

As they stared into each other’s eyes Renji wanted to say something stupid, like, how much he’d loved Shūhei since Academy, but then he realized, he already had. So, he just nodded and said, “Yeah, how about we go out?”

This made Shūhei laugh long and hard. He rolled back from their intense gaze and rubbed his hands through his hair, like he couldn’t quite believe what Renji was saying, “You’re asking me out? Now? AFTER sex?”

Renji stayed serious. “Yeah. What about it? We could do this regular like, and you could buy me proper flowers, and call me snookums.”

Shūhei blinked. Twice. “Snookums? I’m not calling you snookums.”

Renji was still just drunk enough that Shūhei’s response kind of pissed him off. “Why the fuck not?”

“Because you’re more of a sweetie or a hon.”

“Oh,” Renji smiled, his anger deflating as he laid back against Shūhei’s pillows that smell of sex and men. “Okay. I can be your sweetie.”

Shūhei kissed Renji’s nose, and then cuddled up closely again. Renji felt himself being held in a way that thrilled him almost as much as the flower and the kisses. “Goodnight, sweetie,” Shūhei said fondly. “No wandering off half-naked when you wake up.”

“Heh,” Renji said, feeling himself relaxing into Shu’s arms. “You’ll be lucky, if I ever leave you again.”


End file.
